


Suspicious Behaviour

by Gullviva



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Job, Dirty Talk, Face-Fucking, Invisibility, Light Dirty-Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Name-Calling, Powerful Harry, Violent Sex, light exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-22 09:15:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11377161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gullviva/pseuds/Gullviva
Summary: Somehow the idea that Malfoy might be in the showers, not for some sinister reason – but to take an actual shower, had failed to even occur to Harry.





	1. Chapter 1

Harry was pacing the small room restlessly. “He is definitely up to something.”

“Oh Merlin, not this again…” Ron gave an exasperated sigh and sank deeper into his cushy seat.

“Harry, please leave Malfoy alone.” Hermione looked up from the heavy tome in her lap, she sounded tired.

“But it’s so obvious, Hermione!”

Malfoy was definitely up to something suspicious. The signs were all there; the way he moved smoothly through the winding castle corridors, without drawing attention to himself – always walking purposefully to some place Harry had yet to identify.

The war may have altered a great many things, but there were some things that would never change – the insidious nature of Draco Malfoy being one of them.

Harry heard another mumbled ‘not again’ from Ron. His friends’ unwillingness to accept the obvious reality was really beginning to get on Harry’s nerves.

“Do I need to remind you that I was right to suspect him last time? That really ought to count for something here! Why aren’t you taking this seriously?”

“The war is over, Harry.” Hermione shut her book, careful to mark the page where she had left off with a piece of parchment. She was starting to look concerned. “The way you are acting… It is almost as if you are clinging to the idea of ‘Malfoy being up to something’ for comfort,” she tilted her head slightly, “maybe because it is familiar and you know how to deal with it.” Her voice was full of compassion, but Harry could also detect a hint of something vaguely resembling pity in her tone. “I know you have struggled to find purpose since the war ended, Harry, but this is simply not a healthy coping mechanism.”

Harry spluttered, unable to form proper words in his outrage. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Sure, he had felt lost during the last few months – had felt untethered and adrift without any real sense of direction or motivation. And the wizarding world’s latest bout of crazed infatuation with their ‘Saviour’ had only served to make Harry feel even less connected to it all.

But he had told Hermione all of that in confidence. Why would she use it against him now?

Harry’s magic began to rise with his mounting agitation, rattling their glasses on the small table between them. Harry seemed to have finally hit his growth spurt; though he physically remained as short and scrawny as ever, the amount of power he could readily access had been increasing at an alarming pace since the war. And lately Harry’s control over his immense magic had begun to slip.

“Why would you say that? That’s not it at all!”

Harry’s voice cracked and one of the glasses cracked with it while another toppled over, spilling pumpkin juice over the gleaming oak surface of the table top and the few things they had placed there.

“Mate, please calm down.” Ron’s tone was firm, but the unusual edge in his voice made it clear that the sudden magical outburst had spooked him.

Harry closed his eyes tightly, trying to settle down and get his magic back under control – throwing a temper tantrum would not help his cause in the least. The rattling first slowed and then stopped all together. Harry took a shaky breath to collect himself. His cheeks burned, losing control at this age was mortifying.

“Harry.” Hermione’s voice was gentle and Harry slowly opened his eyes to look at her. “You _have_ purpose – you were _never_ just The Boy Who Lived. I know you feel lost but I promise you that things will settle down soon. What you really need to focus on right now is your school work. It is essential for earning your NEWTs and, more importantly, to get your magic back under control!” She gave him a small smile full of reassurance that made Harry feel much better. “You simply don’t have time to be obsessing over Malfoy this year.”

“But, Hermione-“

“No, ‘but’s!” She was using that mothering tone of hers that Harry found both endearing and aggravating. “You really need to apply yourself to your studies from now on,” she crossed her arms over her chest, “and, to that end, I am going to confiscate your invisibility cloak.”

“What?!” Harry was glad to hear Ron’s voice echo his own disbelief.

Hermione smoothly ignored her boyfriend’s outburst and continued to address Harry. “It is for your own good, Harry. We both know that it would only tempt you to go sneaking after a certain blond Slytherin.”

“But-“

“And, for the last time; Malfoy is not up to anything!” Hermione had clearly run out of patience with him. “Now sit down and get to studying.” She leaned back in her seat and opened the heavy book back up, clearly signalling that the conversation was over.

Harry huffed but did sit down in his own chair and pick up a book. It was clear that he was on his own here; he would have to stop Malfoy’s evil plans without the help of his friends.

______________________________

“Yes!”

He had done it – finally! Harry did a little celebratory twirl in the dusty, unused classroom. He had been practising some pretty advanced magic in here over the last few days and had only just managed to get the spell to work properly. Hermione would be so proud!

Well, perhaps she wouldn’t be – not if she knew the particular spell he had chosen to pour his time and magic into, and what he planned to use it for.

Harry had taught himself the Disillusionment charm.

The giddiness he felt over his success soon turned into excitement to _finally_ find out what that bastard Malfoy had been up to since the school year began. Harry went over to the desk where he had tossed his things when he first arrived and started rummaging through the bag in search of his beloved map. He had missed the feel of the old, worn parchment in his hand. In the name of self-preservation, Harry had gone so far as to avoid even looking at it lately, to curb the intense desire he felt to follow Malfoy around – invisibility be damned.

But now he could finally allow himself to look at it again. It was time.

“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

Harry impatiently waited for the spindly castle outline to spread across the parchment. The small dots began to appear and Harry eagerly searched the Marauder’s Map for the one marked ‘Malfoy’.

There!

Without a second thought Harry scooped up his belongings, crammed them into the bag and headed towards Malfoy’s location. The Slytherin was alone in a seldom used part of the castle – perfect for planning and realizing nefarious plots, clearly. Harry _knew_ he was right about Malfoy. This would prove it.

It was late and most students had already retired to their respective common rooms – there was no need for Harry to slow his pace to avoid drawing unwanted attention to himself, no need to quell the anticipation and excitement rushing through his blood. It felt exhilarating. His footsteps echoed through the ancient stone halls as he ran.

Harry didn’t stop until he had reached the corridor outside the room Malfoy supposedly occupied. He spared a moment to look around as he caught his breath. The corridor was sparsely lit and decorated with intricately draped wall-hangings in deep purple and gold. Harry couldn’t remember ever having been there before. He unholstered his wand and lifted it to tap lightly on his head as he whispered the incantation. The cold sensation that spread over him as the charm took hold was rather unpleasant – but it was worth enduring, because once again it had worked! Harry was invisible.

He slowly moved towards the door, even invisible he still had to remember to be careful not to make too much noise. The brass handle turned easily in his hand and the door opened with only the smallest of sounds. He carefully peeked into the room, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. Harry didn’t know what he had expected of the room, but when he saw the tiled floor and walls he found that he somehow wasn’t at all surprised. Maybe he and Malfoy were simply destined for fateful encounters in bathrooms. Harry quietly stepped into the room, actively trying to avoid thinking about just how badly their last such encounter had ended.

The room was covered in steam which threatened to fog up Harry’s glasses. Visibility was already rather low since the room seemed to be lit only by dim candle light – though Harry had yet to see any actual candles. Magic, figures. The hot mist seemed to seep straight through the layers of Harry’s clothing and right down to his skin. The warm humidity was making the air in the room quite heavy to breathe. Harry felt like the whole atmosphere was rather ominous and foreboding – something was about to happen here. Something big.

He could hear water running and followed the sound, heading towards an annex further in that looked to contain shower stalls.

The mist became thicker as he approached the showers, it curled and wound around Harry as he walked forward slowly on the wet floor tiles, careful not to slip or make too much noise. His pulse was beating rapidly, this was it; Harry would catch the sly Slytherin in the act and stop his, no doubt, evil plans!

Malfoy wasn’t in the first stall and not in the second – but, as Harry silently moved forward, he could make out a figure through the thick steam surrounding the third stall. He swallowed and crept closer to get a better view.

Er… Harry stopped in his tracks, taking in the sight before him.

Somehow the idea that Malfoy might be in the showers, not for some sinister reason – but to take an _actual_ shower, had failed to even occur to Harry.

Draco Malfoy was standing with his back turned towards Harry, hot water streaming down his blond hair and tall, naked body. Harry absently registered that the Slytherin wasn’t the same lanky sort of tall that Ron was; a word like slender or lean would suit Malfoy’s build far better.

What an odd thought to have.

The blond was leaning up against the tiled wall, he was breathing heavily and Harry could see his shoulders shaking slightly. A disorienting sense of déjà vu welled up in Harry. Was Malfoy crying?

Brief memories of reckless curses and disturbing amounts of blood flashed through his mind, but before Harry had had time to fully process any of it Malfoy suddenly turned around. The pale skin of his chest and neck was flushed and his grey eyes were half-lidded, framed by glittering droplets that had caught in his lashes. But Malfoy was not crying.

He was definitely not crying.

As if in a daze, Harry’s eyes helplessly followed the hypnotic, ceaseless motion of Malfoy’s arm down, and down, _and down_ – until he reached the firm grip that the blond had around his rigid cock.

Harry’s thoughts flowed slowly, as if the hot mist had penetrated into his very skull. He certainly had managed to catch Malfoy _in the act_ , so to speak, if not in the way he had anticipated… Harry shook his head violently to try to clear it of both fog and ridiculously unhelpful thoughts; this certainly was not the time to be contemplating such things.

Malfoy moaned softly. The sound irrevocably scattered Harry’s thoughts and drew his full attention right back to the Slytherin in the stall before him.

He couldn’t help but look. Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Shit! Malfoy’s prick was ramrod straight and as tall and flushed as the rest of him – of course the perfect bastard would be gifted with a bloody perfect cock as well. Dark jealousy mingled with undeniable marvel in the pit of Harry’s stomach; the volatile mess of emotions heated his blood and muddled his thinking further. Harry somehow couldn’t tear his eyes away as Malfoy steadily pumped his shaft; up and down, up and down. The regular sound of the blond’s panted breaths and the unending rush of water filled Harry’s ears – it was almost hypnotic.

Completely transfixed, Harry watched Malfoy’s fist endlessly move over the length of his full cock. The slick flesh glistened with every flicker of the source-less candle light. Harry swallowed thickly at the sight of it. Merlin.

Why in the world was he still here, why was he watching this? Harry ought to leave – right now. His body felt stiff and uncooperative, like a deer caught in the headlights.

Harry was completely and utterly unable to look away, and somehow, instead of walking out of there, his feet slowly and unbidden ended up carrying him closer. His thoughts were too scattered to even try to justify staying to himself. Harry could feel stray droplets from the shower hit his face at this distance, the bottoms of his trousers and his shoes were getting wet – he was standing far too close.

Malfoy’s eyes gleamed like steel in the low light. He snickered darkly and, quick as a viper, his unoccupied hand suddenly shot out and caught a tight hold of Harry’s collar. Harry gasped painfully, panic ringing in his ears. Malfoy roughly pulled Harry into the hot spray of the shower and leaned down close to his face.

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize the distortion of a disillusionment charm?” The words were hissed out between Malfoy’s sharp teeth.

Harry was frozen stiff, held in Malfoy’s harsh grip. Fuck. Unlike his cloak, the disillusionment charm did _not_ render a person truly invisible, but rather merely masked their presence. Anyone looking closely enough would notice the air sizzling slightly as the charm worked to obscure the disillusioned witch or wizard. Harry _knew_ this, he should have been more careful. Shit. Fuck!

“Who are you?”

Malfoy’s voice was low and intimidating; Harry could detect nothing in it that would suggest that the blond felt any distress over having been caught in such a compromising position. Malfoy looked dangerous – grey eyes flashing like storm clouds lit by lightning. He looked magnificent, _powerful_ ; and the sight of him did strange things to Harry. His breath hitched audibly.

A sharp smirk twisted Malfoy’s lips. He slowly straightened to his full length, positively towering over Harry.

“You were enjoying the view?” His voice had a dark, heated edge to it.

The blond’s hand tightened around his still fully erect cock, and Harry’s eyes were uncontrollably drawn by the movement. Dear Merlin, Harry suddenly became acutely aware of the tightness in his pants caused by his own straining erection. Since when…? Malfoy’s prick pulsed in his grip and Harry was immediately distracted from his barely coherent thoughts. He let out a small broken sound at the sight.

“You were.” The low words now formed a statement, not a question. “You disgust me.” Malfoy snickered cruelly. “Fine, creep, I’ll give you something to watch.”

Malfoy slowly caressed his rigid cock with long strokes of his bloody perfect, slender fingers. He made a small satisfied humming noise and softly caught his full lower lip between sharp teeth.

“You like this, huh?”

The Slytherin prince had Harry by the throat with one pale hand – while bringing himself off with the other. Sweet fucking Merlin. Harry couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his lips at the sheer audacity of it all. The blond growled low in his throat in response and abandoned the soft strokes to instead thrust into his fist.

Fuck! Harry strenuously swallowed past the slight obstruction of his throat. Malfoy’s sleek hips rocked back and forth as he pumped his hand up and down the length of his prick. The blond’s eyes were heated with desire but steadily remained cruel. With every stroke Malfoy increased the force and intensity of his thrusts; the sight of him was making Harry’s head positively spin.

Malfoy’s pupils had been blown wide, almost eclipsing the sparkling silver of his irises. They were standing _so close_ ; Harry could feel the blond’s heated breaths against his skin, he could follow the trail of each and every drop of water that slid down the planes of the blond’s lightly toned body, could see the muscles flex as he moved – but Harry’s eyes never strayed long from the tantalizing sight of Malfoy roughly fucking into the circle of his fingers. There simply weren’t enough expletives in the world to describe the sight.

Malfoy moaned fervently. Bloody hell… Harry’s heartbeat was thundering in his ears. He wanted to touch himself – to touch Malfoy – but the grip around his throat said to keep still. All he could do was keep watching; drink in and memorize every last detail of the sight before him.

The Slytherin’s breathing was becoming harsher, more erratic, as his hips snapped back and forth with ever increasing forcefulness. Harry was held in place as much by the sight itself as he was by Malfoy’s rough hold on his collar – he was completely spellbound by the blond. Malfoy’s hypnotically constant and relentless motions suddenly stuttered. He threw his head back and cried out hoarsely. His iron grip on Harry’s throat tightened ruthlessly as he reached climax. With his eyes helplessly fixed on the Slytherin, Harry only perfunctory struggled for breath as Malfoy emptied himself in thick ropes over the front of Harry’s black school robes.

It was over.

A heartbeat of stillness passed before Malfoy roughly shoved Harry away. Light-headed and caught completely off guard, Harry stumbled backwards clumsily. He slipped on the wet tiles and crashed to the floor painfully.

“Oof!”

“Now get out!” Malfoy’s voice was harsh – raw. The crazed heat was gone. “I’m not in the habit of entertaining creeps. If I ever catch you watching me again you won’t get off this easily. I’ll make you hurt.”

The promise in his words rang true through Harry’s disoriented mind. He unsteadily looked up at the blond in time to catch his grey eyes narrowing dangerously – it was time to leave. The harsh impact had thankfully unfrozen Harry’s uncooperative body and he hurriedly snatched his bag from where it had fallen and scrambled to his feet. Without a second glance at Malfoy Harry began running, the blond’s cruel laughter followed him out the door and through the corridor beyond.

What the fuck… What the _bloody fuck_ had just happened?

Harry hobbled through the halls as fast as he could manage. He had banged his hip quite badly when he had hit the floor and, on top of that, his straining erection was making running both very awkward and quite painful. The harsh chafe of the wet denim that accompanied his every movement was fast becoming absolutely overwhelming against his over-sensitive skin. Harry’s previously neglected prick pulsed painfully against the confining fabric of his trousers.

He only made it through a few more winding stone corridors before his brief flash of self-preservation was completely drowned out by the overpowering need for release.

Malfoy didn’t seem to be coming after him, and it didn’t bloody matter how absurd the whole situation was, Harry could analyse it all he wanted later; now he just desperately wanted – no, _needed_ – to get off.

Harry threw open the next door he came across and hastily stepped inside. It seemed to be some kind of storage room with various pieces of spare chain-mail and weaponry, presumably belonging to the many suits of armour that were placed throughout the castle. Good enough. The room didn’t seem to get many visitors, if the thick layer of dust on the shelves was anything to go by, so Harry probably wouldn’t be bothered by anyone here.

He closed the door behind him with a dull thud and leaned back against the sturdy oak. Harry took a deep breath and let the bag he had hastily slung over his shoulder fall to the ground once more. He could feel the tension leave his body and as he released the desperately tight hold that he had had on his magic Harry suddenly found himself to be visible again.

The front of Harry’s robes was covered by a sticky white mess. Harry was completely sullied. His prick pulsed painfully as the sight spurred his mind to replay certain recent events in vivid detail. Malfoy’s tight grip around Harry’s throat and his own pulsing cock, the way the water had ceaselessly flowed over the planes of his body, the Slytherin’s heated voice spewing cruel words in Harry’s ear.

Harry groaned and began fumbling with his zipper.

The fact that his sensitive erection was straining against the soaked denim made the simple act of unfastening a pair of jeans much more of an ordeal than in ought to have been. Frustrated, Harry whined pitifully before finally managing to free himself from the confining fabrics and push his trousers and pants down far enough to take himself in hand.

The feeling of direct contact was extremely heady after only having been able to inadequately graze his prick through multiple layers of fabric. Harry shuddered as the sensation washed over him. More. He needed more.

Harry tightened his grip and moaned as his mind replayed the memory of Malfoy’s slender fingers circling his own flushed cock. Harry’s eyes slid shut as he tugged frantically at his prick. It was all still so fresh in his mind; he could imagine the blond menace so clearly before him – could almost feel his hot breath against his skin once more. Harry pumped his erection harshly in his fist, trying to mirror Malfoy’s ruthless pace and brutal force – chasing the visceral sensation of being in his presence, utterly at the blond’s mercy.

Harry whimpered softly. He was almost there, _almost_. He could remember Malfoy’s fingers tighten mercilessly around his throat as the blond climaxed and spilled his seed all over him. Harry’s breath caught, for a moment he broke his mounting pace and swiped a hand through the slick mess covering his chest – before bringing his fist right back to his pulsing prick. Harry could hardly believe his own desperate actions. Unbidden, his mind conjured up Malfoy’s heated voice; ‘ _You disgust me_.’ Sweet bloody Merlin. It was too much; the memory _and_ the sensation of Malfoy’s cooling release against the hot flesh of Harry’s straining erection. He only just had time for a few stuttering thrusts into the slick circle of his fingers before violently reaching his own climax.

The roaring, explosive feeling was intense to a degree that Harry had never experienced before. How could anything be allowed to feel so bloody good?  As his heartbeat began to slow Harry realized that he was left feeling acutely aware of and in tune with his body and magic, in a way he hadn’t in a very long time. He felt grounded and somehow whole as the sensation of effortless bliss and satisfaction settled deep in his bones.

Harry smiled to himself and made a resolution to wank more often in the future.

A comfortable, sleepy feeling rolled over him and, more than anything, Harry wanted to curl up on the floor of the small dusty room and fall into dreamless sleep right then and there. He absently realized that disappearing for the night would make his friends worry and decided against it. Harry gave a big yawn and pushed himself off the oak door he had been leaning against onto slightly wobbly feet.

Before hiking his trousers up Harry sleepily remembered to cast a quick cleaning charm on himself. The whole thing happened quite on instinct; he ended up casting the charm both wandlessly and without the incantation – something he had not realized that he could do.

Though surprising, in that moment it all felt quite natural to Harry’s fuzzy mind and he therefore merely shrugged it off before collecting his bag and venturing out to locate his waiting bed in the Gryffindor tower.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry slowly started to wake up, his drowsy mind just beginning to separate his winding and convoluted dreams from reality. It was early Saturday morning and no need to get up just yet, so Harry simply turned over and burrowed deeper under the warm covers with a pleased sigh. He had had a good night’s sleep for once, filled with pleasant dreams – vast green Quidditch fields, the exhilarating rush as he raced to catch the snitch, then locker rooms full of his cheering team mates, showers and… Malfoy?

Feeling like someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head, Harry jerked upright in bed, suddenly wide awake.

Images of Malfoy’s strong, soaking wet and extremely _naked_ body flooded his unprepared mind. And what had happened after that…

“No, no-no-nononono!” Harry shook his head reflexively, as if that would help evict the unwanted memories from his brain. It didn’t. And with sleep thoroughly drained from his system the images were now coming back to him with crystal clarity – Malfoy’s heated voice, his full bloody cock, and the way Harry himself had chosen to deal with the whole situation afterwards. Wanking, _fucking_ _really_?!

Groaning Harry flopped back onto his bed. How the bloody hell had any of that managed to even happen? It all seemed completely and utterly surreal, his mind was reeling. For the first time Harry was beginning to see the wisdom of following Hermione’s advice and simply focus on his studies this year. If he had only listened to her and left Malfoy alone none of this would ever have happened.

Harry winced at his own thoughts. No, Malfoy was definitely up to no good and Harry could not let this, er… ’minor setback’ keep him from finding out what. The threat in the blond’s parting words still rang as a warning in his ears but Harry could not afford to leave the scheming Slytherin Prince alone – someone could get hurt. And that fact ought to trump any discomfort on his part. Harry huffed at his own show of weakness; he was determined to see this through. As long as he was more careful next time he wouldn’t get caught again and Malfoy’s threat would be mute. With what had happened last night weighing on his mind Harry felt sure that he would not lose focus and be found out a second time.

This time, he knew what was at stake.

Without closer examination, Harry decided to put the whole ‘wanking to thoughts of Malfoy’-bit out of his mind as well. After all, he was a hormonal teenage boy that had been abruptly tossed into a sexually charged situation while high on adrenaline – it could have happened to anyone really! And if he happened to still feel a twitch in his groin when dwelling on thoughts of yesterday for too long; that was simply to be expected given the situation. It didn’t mean a thing!

The simple truth was that Malfoy was up to something and that it was left to Harry to stop him. Nothing else really mattered next to that.

With his feelings on the matter resolved, Harry finally relaxed enough to fall back to sleep.

______________________________

Draco Malfoy wasn’t up to much of anything this year. He did his best to stay out of trouble and out of the way of his fellow students, simply focusing on studying for his NEWTs and keeping his head down.

It hadn’t been easy to convince the Headmistress to let him back behind Hogwarts’ newly rebuilt castle walls since he had, in his own way, helped destroy them during the war. But in the end, Minerva McGonagall was a fair woman and had agreed to let Draco finish his studies with the rest of the returning Eight year students. The conditions he had had to agree to were harsh, with the threat of expulsion constantly hanging over his head, but Draco was still grudgingly grateful to the old witch. After all, it was abundantly clear to him how much harder his future would be with an unfinished education on top of all the other reasons people now had to resent him and his family. He would never have been able to find decent employment and, after the Ministry had ceased most of his family’s assets in war reparations, he really needed to find work. With his father spending the remainder of his life in an Azkaban prison cell, Draco was now the Head of House Malfoy and the responsibility therefore fell on him to provide for his ailing mother and himself.

Adjusting to this new reality had been hard, but he was managing. Things had been going according to plan, Draco had been trying his best to go unnoticed and avoid rubbing his presence at the school in anyone’s face. McGonagall had made it very clear that even the smallest signs of trouble would lead to him getting expelled. Draco was even staying away from his friends, to avoid being blamed by association if they landed themselves in any sort of trouble – but also to spare them of being too closely connected to a known Death Eater. It was the least he could do for them.

It had all been going well too. But being on his very best behaviour at all times was exhausting and _boring_ , and for just a moment he had let his control slip.

And what a moment he had chosen…

A small but faintly frantic sounding laugh escaped Draco’s lips where he sat contemplating his fate in a dark alcove. For once his homework assignments were sitting untouched beside him. Well, at least he wasn’t bored any more – he was doomed! Feeling distinctly fatalistic, Draco groaned and let his head fall into his hands.

How could he have been so careless? How could he have let himself thrown everything away so easily? Draco had known exactly what was at stake. But, in that moment, his usually quick and calculating mind had been clouded by emotion. He had been angry to once again find someone spying on him – _so angry_ , and aroused… All in all, clearly not the best combination.

Draco raked his hands through the smooth locks of his hair, deeply regretful and incredibly frustrated with himself. Merlin! For one shining moment, he had felt truly alive and in control again. It had been exhilarating – but _so_ not worth the consequences.

There was nothing he could do to amend the situation now; the unknown boy would no doubt tell someone about what the nasty Death Eater had done – all that was left for Draco was to simply wait to be called to the Headmistress’s office.

It would soon be all over. He would be expelled.

______________________________

“Oh, there he is. Let’s follow him!”

“He looks so heroic, doesn’t he?”

“Mister Potter, would you sign my copy of the Daily Prophet please? Right underneath this picture of you and Mister Weasley, if you would?”

“Do you think he would let me touch his hair? It looks so _wild_!”

A high-pitched giggle erupted from the group of gathered students. The struggle to not scream at the ever present swarm of underclass-men was really beginning to take a toll on Harry. One of these days he was certain that he would simply snap and hex some unfortunate thirteen year old. He gritted his teeth and spoke as neutrally as he could manage, trying to be heard over the excited voices around him.

“I’m not signing any autographs today – or any day for that matter, so stop asking!” That last part has sounded too aggressive and Harry took a deep breath and tried again for a level, polite tone. “Please give us some room. We’re trying to get to Transfiguration class on time. Excuse me.”

Ron and Hermione were of course sympathetic to his plight, but in the end they couldn’t do much to help but try and clear a path for him through the sea of students. If it was bad enough, they sometimes even staged some sort of distraction so Harry could duck away from the madness safely.

It was getting absolutely ridiculous!

Over the summer Harry had barely been able to step a foot outside the Burrow for all the commotion it had caused. Some people even went so far as to camp in the fields surrounding the house, just to catch a glimpse of him – the ’Saviour of the Wizarding World’, as they had begun to call him. Harry had counted the days until he would be able to go back to Hogwarts. He had longed for normalcy – to feel like himself again.

But unfortunately the students of Hogwarts were behaving in much the same way as the rest of Wizarding Britain. Harry could hardly believe it, the Firsties he could perhaps understand, but most of the Hogwarts population had spent years studying and living alongside him and his friends. Harry had, mistakenly, thought that they simply saw his as a fellow student now, as opposed to the rumoured Boy Who Lived.

The rest of the school day passed in a similar fashion, swamped by giggling girls and star-struck boys. Harry couldn’t wait to get away!

He was spending more of his spare time following Malfoy around now, bending over backwards to find plausible reasons to ditch various study sessions and games of chess without making his friends suspicious of his whereabouts. Hermione, of course, saw straight through his paper-thin excuses, but she still let him go. She probably thought he simply wanted to get away from all the attention that now followed him even in the library and the Gryffindor Common room.  Harry was not about to correct her on that assumption, even if it wasn’t the whole truth.

Disillusionment was a welcome reprieve after a full day as the target of a horde of fawning teenagers and pre-teens, but Harry was slowly getting more and more frustrated by his lack of progress on his after-school excursions. He had been following Malfoy around for more than a week and was still no closer to discovering what the nefarious blond was up to.

And on top of his venture being completely fruitless so far, Harry also couldn’t remember trailing after Malfoy ever having been this dull and uneventful before. He remembered Malfoy being way more exciting and engaging than this. Granted, Harry couldn’t keep track of the Slytherin at all hours of the day and night, or Ron and Hermione might get suspicious and butt in – but still – all Malfoy seemed to do when sneaking away to obscure parts of the castle was to _study_.

He honestly couldn’t be that much of a swot, could he? Harry scrutinized the figure of Draco Malfoy, perched on a window sill further down the corridor from where Harry was standing. Malfoy currently had his pale blond head studiously bent over, what Harry had disappointedly identified as, some high level Arithmancy text. He had been sitting like that, slowly turning pages and making small notes, ever since Harry showed up half an hour ago expecting – or, at this point, more like hoping – to find Malfoy up to his old tricks.

Harry grumbled to himself. No, it must all be a ruse Malfoy had devised to cast off suspicion after having found someone watching him that one time… Harry shook his head reflexively to dislodge the images that automatically rose in his mind whenever he recalled the incident. He resolutely avoided reflecting over the slight swelling the unbidden memories caused in his pants. It would go away soon enough if he just ignored it.

Thankfully, Malfoy didn’t seem to have figured out that Harry had been the one watching him in the bathroom, but he was obviously still taking precautions to safeguard his evil plans.

If Malfoy could just hurry up and get on with it soon! Harry sighed, he was getting seriously restless at this point – frustrated that nothing was going his way lately. Honestly, Malfoy didn’t even have to do something _truly_ evil, just gear up to harass some First years or something. Harry would stop him and, knowing that he had been right to follow Malfoy around, would feel a whole lot better about doing so _and_ the fact that he was lying to his friends about it…

Er…okay, that sounded pretty bad. Harry cringed at the turn his thoughts had taken. Incredibly frustrated with both Malfoy and with himself, Harry ran a hand through his messy hair, no doubt making it look more like a birds nest than ever. Maybe it was time to call it a night for now, and tomorrow Harry could re-evaluate the value of skipping out on studying for his NEWTs to follow a perfectly behaved Slytherin around.

Just as Harry had decided to leave, Malfoy shifted and started to pack away the book and essay he had been working on. Harry stilled, on high alert once more – resolution to leave Malfoy alone forgotten. Maybe this was it! He let his fingers glide over the handle of his wand, ready to cast at the first sign of trouble.

But instead of doing anything remotely evil, Malfoy simply removed a second large tome from his bag and settled back in his seat in the window with a new piece of parchment.

Harry’s frustration bubbled over and he swung around and kicked the corridor wall to keep himself from actually screaming out loud.

The kick merely produced a dull thud, but in the otherwise quiet corridor Harry felt like he might as well have just screamed. Malfoy lifted his head from his work at the noise and looked down the shadowy corridor, straight in Harry’s direction – his grey eyes narrow, searching.

Harry stood absolutely still, hardly daring to even breathe. Adrenaline was rushing through his blood and he could feel his magic rising around him. This was it; they had finally reached the tipping point and the stand-still was about to meet a violent and fiery end.

But then Malfoy shrugged – _bloody shrugged_ – and went back to his studies.

What. The. Hell?!

Harry couldn’t believe his eyes. He sagged back against the stone wall at the absolute anti-climax of the situation. The wasted adrenaline sloshing around in his system was making him feel nauseous and jittery. The acid in his mouth tasted like disappointment.

That was perhaps the most unsettling part of it all. Had he actually wanted to get caught? Was he really _that_ desperate for something to happen?

Harry staggered away from the corridor on unsteady legs.

______________________________

After the incident in the corridor Harry spent the next few days feeling acutely off-balance and very frazzled. He didn’t venture out after Malfoy and instead stayed close to his friends, actually getting some proper studying done for a change. Hermione didn’t comment on the sudden change, but she seemed pleased.

Harry wasn’t sure how he felt – about any of it. He had been so sure that Malfoy was up to something, all the evidence had seemed to point towards that conclusion. But now, after he had gone so far as to announce his presence by kicking the bloody wall – in, what he could only describe as, a deliberate attempt to elicit a response from the studious blond – he was beginning to doubt his own motives.

Even though he hadn’t acknowledged it before now, Harry’s thoughts regarding Malfoy had changed since the bathroom incident. He would find himself staring at Malfoy’s dot on the Marauder’s Map and wondering what he was doing. Was he in the midst of completing the last preparations of his evil plan, or was he wanking? Maybe Harry had better go over there to check – just to make sure… And each time he made his way over, full of anticipation, only to find the blond deep into a tome of theoretical Transfiguration or some such, the feeling of crushing disappointment only became more and more difficult to rationalise and hide from himself.

This pattern really ought to have set off alarm bells for Harry long before it came to this. At least Malfoy hadn’t actually noticed him – that was something! Harry had been lucky, _very lucky_!

So why didn’t he feel lucky? What he really felt, more than anything, was cheated – bereft of the fiery confrontation he had been so sure was coming. It made his head spin.

Harry couldn’t concentrate on his studies with these half-finished realizations and self-reflections flitting through his mind like crazed snitches – always _just_ out of his reach. Harry had never been a planner, he was a doer. And he needed to do something to sort out this whole mess right now, or he would have to come back to Hogwarts next year for bloody Ninth Year. Harry groaned at the thought, raking his hands through his inky black hair and making it all stand on end – quite fitting with his current mental state.

“Are you having trouble with something, Harry?” Hermione whispered across the table. They were sat studying in a quiet corner of the library.

A resounding ‘Yes’ wanted to break from Harry’s lips. He sighed, this was something he needed to figure out on his own.

“No, I’m just tired. I think I might head back to the dorm for the night.”

She nodded. Ron, who was hunched over his books beside her, barely looked up as he spoke.

“Alright, mate. I’m gonna stay a bit longer, almost have this assignment figured out, see.”

He was concentrating hard – something that was clearly visible on his face. Harry could see Hermione watching her boyfriend fondly. He smiled at both of them before packing up his things and walking away.

Harry actually did head back to Gryffindor Tower, as he had told his friends that he would – but only to get rid of his bag and check the map to find out where Malfoy was spending his time this evening. There would be time for sleep later.

Harry would go to see Malfoy under disillusionment _one_ more time – the last time, if nothing changed tonight. He wasn’t sure what he would do or what he wanted to accomplish, but the decision to go had a sense of finality about it that simply felt right to Harry. Something _would_ change tonight and Harry was crossing his fingers that it would be for the better.

After examining the map briefly, Harry spotted Malfoy walking through a corridor down in the dungeons. Excited, Harry quickly folded up the worn parchment and started making his way down towards the castle dungeons.

Malfoy had been heading in the direction of the old Potions classroom, but when Harry finally got there the corridor was dark and deserted – the cold and damp air making it feel like no one had been there for years. Stopping to catch his breath after his swift track down into the very bowels of Hogwarts castle, Harry was thinking about taking out the map once more to locate Malfoy – but then, soft but somehow distinct, Harry could hear retreating footfalls further down the corridor. He followed the sound through unfamiliar winding, stony corridors, sometimes managing to catch sight of Malfoy before he disappeared around another corner. When Harry finally caught up with the blond they had somehow made their way back to the Slytherin Common room.

Malfoy spoke the words to gain access to the snake pit too softly for Harry to hear him and before Harry had had time to make his way over, the door swung shut once more.

Harry swore under his breath. He couldn’t let it end like this! He would have to wait.

It was late now, just past curfew – but surely there would still be a few delinquent Slytherins out and about, disrespecting the school rules. The fact that these rules also applied to Harry himself failed to even cross his mind.

Fortunately, he was right about the Slytherin students’ general attitude towards the rules and didn’t have to wait long. A pair of giggling Fourth or Fifth year girls in green trimmed robes soon turned the corner and walked arm in arm down the corridor towards the Slytherin Common room. Harry quietly moved closer to where the entrance would appear.

“Axolotl spawn,“ one of the girls murmured, making the door swing open.

Harry briefly wondered about the strange password before slinking into the opening after the girls.

The Slytherin Common room looked the same as it had done the last time he saw it. Harry somehow felt that it was almost eerie to find it unchanged, even after all that had happened since he last stepped foot here. He shook off the strange feeling and scanned the room for that familiar blond head of hair instead.

Nothing. A few students were still milling about but most seemed to have retired for the night, Malfoy among them.

Harry quickly but quietly crossed the Common room and moved over towards the dorms. To say that the corridor lacked the cosy feel of the Gryffindor dorms was an understatement. Harry read the names on the gilded plates set in the doors as he passed them.

Draco Malfoy.

Harry came to a stop. Malfoy’s was the only name on the door before him. He hesitated, feeling unsure for the first time since he had made up his mind to go. Maybe charging in without any semblance of a plan hadn’t been his best move. Harry bit his lip.

Malfoy would be alone in the room and to get in, Harry would have to open the door himself. The blond may have over-looked his disillusioned form more than once during the past few weeks, but he really wouldn’t be able to miss it this time.

And somehow, Harry still found himself wanting to go in.

What had Malfoy said? That Harry wouldn’t ‘get off easy’, that Malfoy would ‘make him hurt’… Somehow, jumbled like it was with the images of the blond stroking himself to completion – with the memory of Malfoys heated voice filling Harry’s ears – it didn’t sound like as much of a deterrent as it once had. Harry wanted to know what Malfoy would do; astonished, he found that he somehow couldn’t wait to find out.

All Harry had to do was to open the door and walk inside.

He couldn’t explain the feeling. It didn’t make sense – or maybe it did… Either way it didn’t matter. It just _really_ didn’t matter to him any more. Harry licked his lips.

This was something he had to do. Harry tossed all other thoughts and doubts aside, reached out and turned the door handle – and walked inside.

Malfoy looked up from where he was lying on the bed with a few books scattered around him.  He was still fully dressed but the look on his face made it clear that he had not been expecting company. Steel grey eyes narrowed as Harry shut the door quietly behind him. He took a shaky breath and waited. The next move was Malfoy’s to make.

The blond slowly sat up, never taking his eyes off the entrance to his room. When he spoke, Harry had trouble discerning the exact emotions fuelling the intensity in his voice. All he knew was that it made him shiver in anticipation.

“Couldn’t stay away, hm?” Malfoy rose to his feet, smoothing out the slight creases in his clothes with sure hands.

“I’ll admit that I was expecting to be called to the Headmistress’s office after our first encounter – and when that didn’t happen I began to wonder about you.” Malfoy took a step towards Harry.” You kept following me around even though I had made myself _quite clear_ on the consequences of such actions.”

The reminder of said consequences from Malfoy’s own lips made Harry swallow thickly.

“And even after I was kind enough to let you off the hook last week – you still show up here now.”

Wait, Malfoy had known he was in the corridor that night? But Harry could scarcely begin to take in the implications of that – he could hardly think at all as Malfoy’s hands reached down to rest on his belt. The fancy leather was an oily black colour which contrasted sharply with Malfoy’s long pale fingers as he began to slowly unbuckle the belt.

“I can only take that to mean that you are ready, and perhaps even _keen_ , to receive your punishment.”

Harry could hardly breathe; he could feel his prick rapidly filling at the slight growl in Malfoys words.

Fuck.

Malfoy’s nimble fingers smoothly slipped the shiny leather through the smart-looking silver buckle.

“Get on the bed.”

Malfoy’s tone brooked no argument – not that Harry would have been able to articulate any, if he had had them. Harry shuffled over towards the bed as if in a daze. The soft mattress dipped slightly where he sat, indicating to Malfoy that his disillusioned visitor had done as he was told.

“On your back.”

His voice wasn’t raised but the command was clear as day, the roughness of the words elicited a tingling sensation that resonated through Harry’s flesh. He obediently scooted farther up onto the plush bed and laid back, turning his head so that he would still be able to see the Malfoy heir. The low light in the room had him backlit, making his blond hair appear as a halo around his head. He somehow cut the very image of a fallen angel.

“You absolute slut…” A tiny sound escaped Harry’s lips. Malfoy had all but purred the words as his lips bent into a sharp, predatory smile. He slowly pulled the inky leather through the last belt loops of his trousers. Harry could clearly see the outline of Malfoy’s cock pushing against the expensive fabric. The exquisite cut of the tailored slacks only served to increase the obscenity – the vulgarity – of the way Malfoy appeared in that moment.

Bloody, fucking hell…

Harry’s thoughts jumbled together beyond comprehension as Malfoy stalked towards the bed.

“You’ll be getting your wish now. Aren’t you the lucky one?”

And for once, Harry really did feel lucky. Malfoy’s heated voice was making him feel more than a little delirious – giddy in a way that reminded him of the way Felix Felicis had felt. The blond slowly moved onto the bed. Towering over Harry’s slightly trembling form, Malfoy situated himself to straddle Harry’s chest – pinning his arms down in the process.

The solid weight of Malfoy, the warmth of his body pressing down on Harry was overwhelming; oppressive in a way that somehow made him feel grounded, cradled.

Malfoy’s sharp eyes were the colour of brewing storms as he regarded Harry’s disillusioned form beneath him. Harry stared back, his shallow breathing growing more rapid as Malfoy began to unfasten his trousers, clasp after clasp. The blond reached into the folds of his clothes and brought out his flushed erection, gripped in a loose fist. Harry’s breath caught in his throat – the memory of it had nothing on actually seeing the bloody thing again. Malfoy tilted his head slightly, making locks of platinum hair fall into his face as he flashed Harry a vicious smirk.

“Open wide~”

Realization hit Harry like a tonne of bricks.

He would get to taste him – it made Harry’s body absolutely ache with want. He swallowed the sudden surge of saliva in his mouth and wetted his parted lips in anticipation.

Malfoy angled his hips slightly, leaning into Harry more as he lowered his prick towards Harry’s mouth. It was so close, Harry craned his neck and could almost, _almost_ reach it when Malfoy stilled.

“Oh, and perhaps I should mention – any teeth and I’ll tear you to bloody shreds, alright pet?”

The Slytherin prince flashed his sharp teeth in a predatory grin. Harry shallowed thickly; he must have been blind to never notice how fucking stunning Malfoy was until now. A pitiful sounding whimper escaped through Harry’s parted lips. He wanted him so bad.

Apparently satisfied with Harry’s response Malfoy guided his cock down into Harry’s reach.

Harry had never done anything even close to this before, but the adventurous Gryffindor spirit burnt fiercely inside him – Harry felt no hesitation. He made a first eager swipe with his tongue over the underside of the blond’s erection. A warm, musky scent filled his nose as he got his first taste of Malfoy’s manhood. It was heady. Harry lapped hungrily at the heated flesh, savouring the slightly salty taste of it.

Malfoy hummed approvingly above him and reached down to rake a hand through Harry’s messy hair, pulling slightly at the strands. Harry felt emboldened by the encouraging gesture and placed several sloppy but eager open-mouthed kisses over Malfoy’s shaft. The flesh pulsed hotly against his tongue, making Harry’s head spin.

Harry mouthed his way upwards, lapping appreciatively at the stretched skin which was becoming slick with his saliva. He could hear a sharp intake of air from above him as he placed a first kiss on the deeply flushed head of Malfoy’s cock. Tentatively licking across the narrow slit earned Harry the first potent taste of Malfoy’s seed, accompanied by a hoarse groan from the blond.

The hand fisted in his hair again pulled slightly on the strands in its grasp, leaving Harry’s scalp tingling pleasantly.

“No more kitten-licks, pet. Time for a real mouthful.”

Malfoy’s heated voice sounded deeper than before. Eager to please, Harry obediently enveloped the cock-head with his faintly swollen lips and sucked tentatively. Malfoy hissed sharply and the sound spurred Harry to redouble his efforts. He bobbed his head slightly, almost letting Malfoy’s cock slip from his lips before sucking the slick flesh back into his mouth – going just a _little_ bit deeper with each repetition. He slid his wetted lips over the raised ridge of the head and then further down the shaft until he felt like he couldn’t fit any more in his mouth comfortably.

“Good boy, that’s it.” Malfoy all but purred the words, stroking his hand through Harry’s hair – sometimes gentle and sometimes raking his fingernails over the scalp. Harry couldn’t decide which he liked best, he just knew that he didn’t want him to stop.

Malfoy looked vicious above him – beautiful and _powerful_. Harry felt like he would do anything the blond asked of him. Lapping reverently at Malfoy’s magnificent cock had Harry more turned on than he had ever been in his life. His own prick was aching painfully in the tight constrains of his jeans at this point, but with his arms pinned firmly under Malfoy’s weight Harry was powerless to do anything about it. And somehow he didn’t mind at all – he didn’t mind anything any more. Right now Malfoy could do whatever he wanted with him and Harry knew that he would love it.

Harry whined piteously around his mouthful, unable to better communicate what he felt.

Malfoy snickered cruelly. “What’s that? Still not enough for you, slut?”

The wicked mirth in his grey eyes made them glitter like intricately cut gems, and the sight took Harry’s breath away. Malfoy pulled back and pushed Harry’s head down firmly into the soft covers of the bed, finally giving his sore neck some reprieve. Funny, Harry hadn’t even noticed the strain until now.

The blond towered above him with a sharp and twisted smile on his lips. Feverish anticipation tore through Harry’s blood as he waited with bated breath, what would happen next?

“I somehow knew that it wouldn’t be enough until I had you gagging on it.” The gravel in Malfoy’s voice made the tiny hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stand on end and sent an intoxicating thrill down into his very core. The blond continued in a heated whisper. “I did promise that I would make you hurt, didn’t I?”

And with that Malfoy shifted his weight forward, placing his hands above Harry’s head and leaned forward until the head of his cock was pressed against Harry’s swollen lips, demanding entrance.

“Open wide, pet.”

With a violent shiver of delirious pleasure, Harry closed his eyes and parted his lips for the intruding member. He would dream of this moment for the rest of his life.

Malfoy’s slick cock easily slipped in between his lips. The Slytherin’s hips moved forward in a slow elliptical motion, pushing further and further into Harry’s willing mouth with each iteration. Harry sucked and licked as best he could around the pulsing flesh.

Harry kept his head still, letting Malfoy set the pace – simply happy to lap at the heated shaft as it ebbed and flowed over his tongue with rising urgency.

Suddenly Malfoy went deeper and the head of his cock hit the back of Harry’s throat, making Harry have to fight the urge to gag.

The blond menace snickered nastily above him. “You’d better brace yourself, pet.” His voice was silky and venomous, and it seduced Harry all over again. He relaxed his throat as best he could; determined to try his out-most to accommodate the wicked creature above him. Harry wanted to rapturously receive all that the blond could give him – he wanted it more than anything.

“Good boy~” Malfoy purred and, just like that, Harry was ready.

Malfoy pulled back minutely before pushing down into Harry’s open throat. The foreign sensation as he was stretched around the searing flesh of Malfoy’s erection was beyond anything Harry had ever experienced before. It was painful, yes – but there was somehow so much more to it than that. After withdrawing, Malfoy made a few shallow thrusts into Harry’s mouth before fully burying himself inside Harry’s trembling throat once more. The languid moans from above him were all the praise Harry needed to make himself keep going after that.

Already breathing shallowly from the pressure over his chest, breathing was made still more difficult for Harry as Malfoy continued to fuck into his throat. Harry was starting to become seriously light-headed, thought his prick seemed to simply grow impossibly harder from his delirious and slightly oxygen-deprived state. He had never felt like this before. Harry’s wanton, broken moans were expertly muffled by Malfoy’s cock pistoning into him again and again.

“Such a good little slut.” Malfoy’s dubious praise elated Harry’s lust-crazed mind immensely; he angled his head further back to try to grant the blond better access. Malfoy rewarded his efforts with a deep moan and a more forceful edge to his thrusts. Harry felt giddy with his success. His jaw was aching dully at this point, but he couldn’t care less – he wanted more.

As Malfoy drove into him with ever increasing force, Harry could feel his sore throat involuntarily spasm around the erection lodged deep inside him. Malfoy’s hips stuttered slightly at that and the unexpected motion was accompanied by a wonderful full-throated moan from the blond. Malfoy’s beatific reaction made Harry’s engorged prick pulse painfully in the confines of his increasingly tight jeans. Eager to try to emulate the effect, Harry tried to make his worn throat swallow around the intrusion. The result was spectacular.

“Nnhaah- Fuck!!”

The books on the bed clattered noisily to the floor, briefly reminding Harry of their existence as Malfoy bucked violently above him. The Slytherin buried himself deep inside Harry with a jerky motion before coming in scorching pulses down his throat. Harry tried his best to keep swallowing the liquid gratitude he received, but he could feel some of the hot seed escape past his stretched and stinging lips to dribble down his cheek.

Malfoy stilled, his cock deflating slowly in Harry’s mouth as the supposed Saviour of the Wizarding World lazily lapped up the last of Malfoy’s ecstasy. If only Malfoy had known…

The blond’s breathing slowed to normal and he pulled away. Malfoy slipped off the bed and stood to tuck his spent cock back into the now severely creased slacks he wore. Harry lay still just watching Malfoy for a moment before his own straining erection reminded him that he had something urgent to take care of. The bed creaked softly as he rolled off of it and started walking gingerly towards the door. Malfoy followed his blurry outline across the room with cool interest. As Harry opened the door to step into the corridor beyond he turned around one last time and saw that the blond’s lips had pulled into a wicked smile once more – his eyes glittering dangerously.

“You know where to find me.”

Malfoy’s voice sent a shiver down Harry’s spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Feel free send me your feedback and/or check out my tumblr for updates on my writing; http://gullviva.tumblr.com/


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